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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253031">Buried</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/METASINN/pseuds/METASINN'>METASINN</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Among Us (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Injury, Character Death, Gen, Going for a MIRA's not to be trusted thing here, Investigations, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Summary pretty much sucks but bear with me, Suspicions, You'll have to read to really get the gist of it, but like, you knew that</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:35:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,415</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253031</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/METASINN/pseuds/METASINN</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mankind is dead. Blood is fuel. Allowing MIRA to bring these samples upon humans had been a terrible mistake, and now we lie in our graves awaiting death. The equipment around me has, for the most part, been disabled. That thing outside has no intention of letting me out...or letting me live for that matter. It left not too long ago for the final crew-mate, and I think it may be coming back. My time has come to a close, so I will leave you with this. Your crew-mate is not someone you can trust. And neither is MIRA."</p><p>This was his only shot at getting MIRA's actions out there. He hopes whoever finds it, listens.</p><p>And oh, did they listen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Other Relationship Tags to Be Added</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Buried</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was his only shot at getting MIRA's actions out there. He hopes whoever finds it, listens.</p><p>And oh, did they listen.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Incident Report: 05-28-1957 (04:45:387)</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Subject</b>
  <span>: Anomalies</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Transcript 05-28-1957:010:34:203 minutes | submitted by BLUP001 - James Coravallis]</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mankind is dead. Blood is fuel. Allowing MIRA to bring these samples upon humans had been a terrible mistake, and now we lie in our graves awaiting death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I am named James Corvallis. Right now I sit in Admin with my assigned cybernetic weapon in my hand, recorder in the other. However, I do not believe that the benefits of cybernetic warfare will be of much assistance, and so this recording will be automatically uploaded to satellite databases immediately. The equipment around me has, for the most part, been disabled. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>outside has no intention of letting me out...or letting me live for that matter. It left not too long ago for the final crew-mate, and I think it may be coming back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In retrospect, it was, essentially, a cold call. One we had no choice but to obey for it was our own company. We couldn’t say </span>
  <em>
    <span>no. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not unless we wanted our paycheck docked. And so we were sent to a Polus research station. It was old. We experienced its rusting floors, its wearing walls, its dusty equipment. Fears of tetanus arose, and every breath taken tasted like ash. MIRA had given us, quite possibly, the most worn, rickety place available.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite this, we persevered. We were researchers—our jobs were not to complain. MIRA had put plenty of funding into securing these new specimens and they were not going to accept failure due to some environmental troubles. So we cleaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although we did not sign up for janitorial duties, we got the job done. The possibility of discovering something great, something </span>
  <em>
    <span>revolutionary</span>
  </em>
  <span> had been too driving of a factor. One where new worlds would be bridged to our own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sadly enough, those new worlds held entities too powerful for the average human to handle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>These 'entities' weren't anything beyond the urban legends or even Japanese Mythology. The monsters we thought we saw fresh out of stupor. In the corners of our eyes growling, hungry for our flesh. The ones mass-reported so much that, whether it be by religious paranoia, ethical implications, or coincidence, were transformed into the urban legends we know today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, we hadn’t that experience with these new anomalies. They were simply curious about their environment. We would survey a multitude of tests: their emotional and mental capabilities, their abilities, pretty much anything you could name under the moon in the name of science. With their habit of shapeshifting, we kept them within a secure glass containment center for both the specimens and our own safety. Experimentation had been conducted very well--a positive outlook for the future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But one night I awoke to a faint thud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, I thought it could have been one of my coworkers making a quick trip to the restroom, so I rolled over ready to get back to sleep. But the sound rang out louder this time, calling me forth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I slipped out of bed, my breath caught in my throat. It sounded again, but a light shatter followed it. My doors cautiously opened with a hiss of decompressed air, and I leaned out. The hall was dark, but by then I knew the dropship’s layout like the back of my hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I fumbled my way blindly trying to figure the location of the noise when another sounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>ShhRk.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a muffled thud or a glass shattering. It sounded...watery. Squishy. And it came from outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By this point, I was wondering what the hell was going on. I made my way to the front entrance, squinting at the bright numbers of the door controls when a squishing made itself apparent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had been stepping in something wet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t think. But I do know my mind registered a copper-like scent hitting me full-force. And it was coming from whatever I had stepped in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shuffled back and bent down to get a better look at the mass through the secluded light of the moon. There, lying mangled on the ground, top half separated from it’s lower half was the corpse of crew-mate Orange. Her cloudy eyes stared a hole into my own. My own screams still ring in my ears to this day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That early morning we gathered around the office table. The air tasted stale, dryer than before. Many of us stared at the marble furniture, unable to look the others in the eye. Especially with the newfound possibility of there being a murderer among us. Yellow stepped forward, a determined yet solemn expression upon his features. He shouted out words I do not remember. But I can remember they weren’t pleasant ones directed at the killer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was found dead a day later, stuffed into the vents after Green reported a terrible smell of rot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As time continued, it got worse. We do not know if the impostor (</span>
  <em>
    <span>what we had chosen to name it</span>
  </em>
  <span>) wanted to play around with us- wear us down before killing us. The sabotages began around the third day, and only increased in variety the longer the specimen had to learn. Cutting off oxygen, tapering with the reactor, closing and locking doors…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red and I found Black this morning leaned against the outer walls of the laboratory, choking on his own blood. Red dropped to his side, murmuring teary reassurances. Black, however, did not have eyes for him. His glassy brown eyes drifted to me, then to the standardized gun at my hip. A silent cry for mercy. And I gave him it—we didn’t have the medical equipment to fix a slashed jugular. The gunshot was deafening throughout the halls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others came running, only to find me on my knees and Red hugging the now-dead corpse of his childhood friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We had enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We went as a group--the remainder of us. Brown, Red, Green, Pink, White, and I. We trailed to Admin, starting up the comms and immediately contacting our supervisor. It was a relief to have reached him in such conditions: the impostor enjoyed tampering with our comms. I explained our situation in a brief summary, awaiting his advice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then I saw the cold of his eyes as he opened his lips and spoke, daring to reach up for the comms midway through his words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With this new threat, it would be heinous to bring it back to Earth. I apologize for this, but Mira thanks you for your service.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The comms screen shut off after that, and I stood there frozen. Red spit colourful language, Pink and Green cried in each other’s arms, and Brown walked White out of the room after he suddenly collapsed. I, however, could only stand there. The sudden realization that no one was coming to help chilled me to my very core. MIRA did not care for their employees as much as they flaunted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So here we are. I sit here, an hour after everyone left, recovering slowly from hearing the cries of my fellow coworkers. I do not know if I will survive tonight, but it is very likely that I won’t. If you find this recording do not, under </span>
  <em>
    <span>any circumstances, </span>
  </em>
  <span>allow MIRA to get their hands on this. I do not know which </span>
  <em>
    <span>year </span>
  </em>
  <span>you will find this, but warn anyone ever released into space exploration by the company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>[</span>
  <em>
    <span>FAINT THUDDING</span>
  </em>
  <span>]</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My time has come to a close, so I will leave you with this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If your crew-mate hesitates to do tasks, that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>your crew-mate. If your crew-mate refuses to eat, that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>your crew-mate. If your crew-mate, for any reason at all, is caught alone in a suspicious position, or trails after you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that is </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>not</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> your crew-mate.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Your crew-mate is not someone you can trust. And neither is MIRA. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>End of </span>
  <span>[Transcript 05-28-1957:010:34:203 minutes | submitted by BLUP001 - James Coravallis].</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The tape is ejected. He pulls his lips into a straight line then stands. Shoving the tape into his bag, he picks up an application and trails down the hallway. A blonde woman, with luscious coral lips and a bright facade, smiles at him when he approaches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks down at the application handed to her, reading the information on it, before giving it an official stamp. Her smile subdued and green eyes glassy, she opens her mouth to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to the team. MIRA thanks you for your service.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fun fact: I randomly typed in 1957 as a transcript date, then searched up space exploration and dates, and found out the first shuttle was technically released in 1957. Whoa. Anyways, please let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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